MY ACCOUNT

Dec. 1st

To my dearest girl:

 

In less than a month you turn 20. And I am lost for words. It seems just yesterday I was holding you in my arms, this tiny, wrinkly, screaming baby, and today you're a calm, capable, magical, whimsical, adventurous young woman.

 

I'd like to take credit for that, but you're something else, Beatrix, and it certainly wasn't due to me.

 

I've been selfish, something you know nothing about. Sometimes I wonder if you even have desires of your own, because you so rarely ever ask for anything. And then there's me - commandeering your life and keeping you a lifelong passenger on this voyage, on this truck... on a whim.

 

You know that I never had parents to look to when I was growing up, so I always had to be self-sufficient. I had to find my own answers. But when you look at me, I see in your eyes such implicit trust. Trust that I have all the answers, because I'm your mother. When the truth is, dear girl... that I feel I have made a grave mistake, keeping you here with me.

 

It was because I had no one that the whole world was open to me. I could take to the open road and feel like everything I wanted was within reach because I had nothing to leave behind. Until I had you, my darling girl.

 

And now as I look at you, I realize what a disservice I've done you, Beatrix. Because having no one and no place and nothing was my impetus and my ability to do what I wanted, to choose this life.

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But my freedom, which I thought would become the standard for your life, has instead become your gilded cage. Yes, it glitters of possibility and holds safety of the known, but it's kept you chained. You haven't had a chance to stretch your own wings, to see the world outside of what I've created for you. And if there ever comes a day when I'm not here, I don't know what you'll do.

 

And it isn't because you can't or aren't capable or brave enough to create your own adventure, because you can and you are. The world is limitless in possibility for you, Beatrix. But today I most keenly feel aware of the fact that you have spent your whole life with me, on a truck. You have no other friends, no other family, no other home, no other history.

 

I know you'll want to chide me for this lamenting when you read this, but I promise there's a point to it.

 

Over the years, I've had a lot of offers as we've travelled - offers to sell the food truck, offers for a chef position, offers to teach at cooking schools. They'd never appealed to me, so I'd always said no.

 

But there is something different that I'd like to do now. I'd like to convert the top of the truck into a covered dining area. It's too much to write out the plans in this letter, but once you read this, we can discuss it and I can show you what I have in mind.

 

I've found this town in Maine that's on the water and hosts a carnival every summer, and it's apparently a popular spot for food trucks - don't know why we've never been there for that! 

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But I think it might be just the spot for us to set up a home base, with a permanent food-truck installation that has a rooftop dining area. Can you imagine sitting up there, right by the water, enjoying fresh, local fare with a Salt flair?

 

I am bursting to talk to you about this now. It's been so hard keeping this idea inside, when I've shared everything with you your whole life. But I want this to be perfect. I want it to be something I can present to you, because you have been the greatest gift to me.

 

I have loved every moment of being your mother, and have been honored to be your best friend. I never thought I'd get so lucky, Beatrix.

 

I know this may be a bit of a bubble-burster, but I do also need to tell you this: that even though children may think their parent has all the answers, has divine wisdom to know what the right or best thing is, has supreme confidence in their decisions... the truth is, we don't. I don't.

 

And the reason why I need to tell you this, my darling Bea, is because you've always seen me as the fearless leader, when in truth, I've stayed on this food truck and kept us on this path for so long because I've been scared.

 

I don't know what will happen to us when we change what we've always done. I'm scared I won't be able to cope, or will fail and disappoint you, maybe even shattering the image you have of me. Or worst of all, that you'll discover a new life without me. 

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I tell you this because I want to be honest, because I want to show you that fear can be overcome, and because I want you to fly.

 

I want you to experience everything this life, this country, this world has to offer. I want you to feel that overcoming those fears is easy, because it can be, if you don't allow them to take root.

 

And, paradoxically, I want you to have roots. I want to be your roots. I want you to know that there is a place on this planet that you can always come home to, because that's where I'll be even if you take flight.

 

I'm so proud of you, Beatrix. I love you more than words could ever express.

 

Happy birthday, my darling girl.

 

 

- Mom

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